


My Flaws Burn Through My Skin Like Demonic Flames from Hell

by breathe_out



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22767004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breathe_out/pseuds/breathe_out
Summary: Shane uses self-harm as a coping mechanism.Please, do not read this if it will be triggering for you. It is graphic.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 31





	My Flaws Burn Through My Skin Like Demonic Flames from Hell

The cut stings when he drags the blade over his skin. Blood beads at the incision until it starts to run in rivulets down his arm. It hurts, but the pain is somehow soothing. The tension in his chest finally uncoils; he feels like he can breathe easier for the first time in weeks. He leans back against the bathroom wall and focuses on the incessant ringing in his ears. 

Nausea churns in his stomach. He had successfully resisted the urge for a while. Then it accumulated into an itch that he needed to scratch. 

Shane reopens his eyes and stares at the tiles on the ceiling. Who the fuck cares anyway? The remnants of his family only look at him in disappointment. He knows that Marnie is probably sick of him freeloading off of her. Of course, he doesn’t blame her in the slightest. All he ever accomplishes in a single day is working and drinking. But the alcohol is the only thing that makes him forget. It’s the bitter elixir that swallows all of the self-hatred and guilt stirring inside of him. 

And god knows that Jas needs a better role model. He’s always skirting around her, trying so desperately to hide himself away when he’s wasted. The last thing he ever wants is for Jas to follow in his crooked footsteps. Although, she insists on spending time with him despite everything.

He’s only alive still because of his family and his chickens. That’s all that is keeping him from ending it. Jas isn’t old enough to understand how to take care of his flock of chickens. Marnie needs him to help around the house and provide some sort of income. He lives for them, but never for himself. 

So, who the fuck cares if he cuts? It’s not a big deal. No one needs to know, and he doubts that anyone would listen if he even tried. 

His body seems too heavy to carry when he finally tries to push himself upward. Shane uses the edge of the bathtub to ease himself off the floor. The room seems to spin when he’s managed to climb back to his feet. He turns the sink faucet onto its hottest setting and waits. When steam begins curling in the basin, he sticks his upper arm under the water. Shane hisses in pain and grits his teeth. The stream is tinted red as the water rinses his cuts. His flesh is quickly turning bright pink from the heat battering his sensitive skin. 

He stands there until the agony fades into numbness. Whatever – it’s the easiest way to prevent his self-inflicted wounds from getting infected. He grabs a dark towel (so the blood isn’t as noticeable) and presses it against his arm with one hand, while his other searches the cabinet for a hidden box of band aids. He grabs a handful of them and begins peeling off the paper to place them over the cuts. One by one, the marks are concealed. 

Shane gathers the band aid wrappers and the razor. Marnie keeps plastic shopping bags crumpled under the sink, so he pulls out one of those. He throws any evidence inside and ties it shut before stuffing it into the garbage can as a tiny, insignificant wad of plastic. Shane’s gaze sweeps over the bathroom; it’s like nothing ever happened. He shrugs his blue thread jacket on last.

“Shane, honey?” Marnie’s sweet voice nearly makes him jump. “Dinner will be ready in a bit.” 

Shane opens the bathroom door with a slight grin plastered on his face. It’s a fake, pathetic attempt to be somewhat normal. Marnie returns it without question. 

“Sorry, I was hogging the shower.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Marnie frowns and she pauses to look at him for a moment, as if she’s sensing something wrong. “Are you okay?” She asks. “You look a little pale.”

“Just hungry, I guess.” The answer is automatic. It’s so _easy_ to lie and act the part of the good nephew that it’s sickening.

Her smile returns. “I made beef stew. You better hurry before Jas eats it all.” She laughs and turns away to attend to the kitchen. He can hear Jas’s excited voice reverberating through the house. He feels so far removed from their happiness, like he doesn’t really belong.

Shane’s face falls when he’s alone again. The cuts on his arm burn, and no one else knows but him.


End file.
